It Was Foretold
by His Lil' Half-Blood Princess
Summary: A prophecy was made 1,000 years ago telling of a boy born to a Muggle and a pureblood. A boy who stood between the dark and the light. A boy who would defeat the side he was disloyal to. A boy like Severus Snape. Adopted by Enezrel.
1. Chapter 1

**It Was Foretold**

**Chapter 1- The Prophecy**

_This is just the starter chapter- where we hear the prophecy. I own Julius and Nero. I don't own anything else. They don't show up past this chapter. Their names are mentioned, but nothing more. Next chapter, Dumbledore and McGonagall._

**XxXxX**

One thousand years ago, in the country we know now as Great Britain, there lived a sorcerer by the name of Julius. Julius was the greatest sorcerer of all time (besides the Great Merlin, of course), for he had more magical abilities than one usually possesed. But being that wizard kind was scarce and Muggles would execute any discovered witch or wizard, Julius's talents were not as honored and cherished as they should've been. So, in light of this, he isolated himself from the rest of the world and hid his magic away with him. These years of solitude were hard on him, but they were well-spent. His expeirements with magic would one day make his name famous. He became wiser and wiser as the years went on, gaining more power and knowledge.

At one point in his life, Julius realized that he was growing old and that if he did not pass this magic on to someone, it would be lost with him when he died. So he gained himself an apprentice by the name of Nero. Nero was young, bright, and a bit too energetic for Julius's taste, but that mattered not. He was willing to learn everything from this great wizard and paid close attention to every word that came out of Julius's mouth.

When Julius had grown too ill and weary to continue to do magic much or teach his apprentice, Nero took care of him and still practiced whatever the older man had taught him. Julius grew sicker and sicker and Nero knew very well that his time to die would soon come. He was sad, of course, who would not be to watch such a brilliant man wither away into nothingness? But he knew that the only thing left for Julius was to live and suffer, or to die and have peace.

One night, the winds and the rains were loud and rough. The rain pattered on the window like sticks hitting a drum. The wind howled like a wolf. Thunder boomed across the skies. And on this night, Julius looked as awful as ever. His eyes were cloudy and he seemed almost hypnotized in a way. It seemed much too odd to Nero, so he asked his mentor, "What is wrong?"

And when the clock outside struck midnight, Julius began to speak in a voice unlike his own, booming, raspy, and distant:

_**IT WILL HAPPEN IN 1000 YEARS TIME...**_

_**A BOY WILL BE BORN**_

_**TO PARENTS OF OPPOSITE BLOOD**_

_**INTO A HOME OF HORROR**_

_**AND HE WILL SEEK REFUGE**_

_**IN ALL THE WRONG PLACES**_

_**HE WILL ENTER THE DARKNESS **_

_**AND HE WILL RETURN TO THE LIGHT**_

_**AND HE WILL BE CALLED MOST LOYAL**_

_**TO THE LORD OF DARKNESS**_

_**AND THE LORD OF LIGHT**_

_**HE WILL STAND WHERE THE SHADOWS CROSS**_

_**FOR NO ONE CAN SEE HIS TRUE LOYALTY**_

_**AND HE WILL BE LABELED A TRAITOR**_

_**BY THE SIDE HE WILL ONE DAY DEFEAT**_

_**IT WILL HAPPEN IN 100 YEARS TIME...**_

And with that, Julius died.

Nero kept the prophecy and passed it down to his apprentice, who passed it down for generations.

That was the year AD 960.

1,000 years later, the prophecy was still in existence, though many had forgotten of it. Except one man.


	2. Chapter 2

Albus Dumbledore had waited for a long time for the year 1960 to come. For twenty years, he had been getting ready for this year to come. And on New Year's Day, the hunt began.

He wrote down the name of every child born that year. From Muggles to purebloods, their names were on his list. From Brits to Chinese, from Hispanics to Canadians, he wrote them down. It was a hard task to take out, but from the moment the clock struck 12 on January 1st, until it was 11:59 on December 31st, he wrote. And he wrote and he wrote. He didn't miss a single name. And by the time the year was over, he was quite pleased that he had all of the names. And he rested.

Now, for the past nine years or so, he had been looking over the list. Now he slowly (and cautiously) starting eliminating names. All of the Muggles and muggle-borns were scratched off. All of the purebloods were deleted. And not a single female was to stay on the list And soon enough, the list only held the half-blood boys born in the year 1960.

He was now looking over the piece of wrinkled parchment he had had for so long and stroked his beard as he thought. There were exactly 13 names. Thirteen half-blood boys. He had reviewed the prophecy over and over again. The Lord of Darkness. Definitely Voldemort. But then again, dear Tom was just beginning his rise to power. Perhaps he would fail? What if the Lord of Darkness was in Australia? He could not be sure of anything. And that's why he did not cross out the African half-blood's name. Or the American one. Or the Cuban. There were two half-blood boys from Britain. Severus Snape and Peter Pettigrew.

There are always thirteen sides to every story, he liked to say, and now there were thirteen sides to every prophecy as well. Thirteen boys. Which boy would the old and dying Julius most likely prophezize about?

Minerva had been nagging him about the prophecy lately. "You have a school to run," she would say. "You don't have time to unveil prophecies. Besides, why does it matter? What it's importance to you?"

He didn't know, to be exact, why the prophecy was of such great importance to him. It just was. He felt connected to it in someway.

He remembered the day he discovered the prophecy...

**XxXxX**

_"Here's the Department of Mysteries," the Minister said, as he and Dumbledore walked towards the entrance. "You have been inside before?"_

_"Oh yes, many a time. But I would love to see it again. All those prophecies never seize to amaze me. Predictions of the future right before our very eyes. I've never been one to enjoy Divination."_

_"Nor I. All those tea leaves and palm readings are complete nonsense!"_

_"Indeed, Minister, indeed. But a prophecy is a much different story. That is why we save them." They walked into the room where all of the white and blue swirly, orbs sat on shelves. Dumbledore's blues eyes drank in the scene. _

_"We've changed the arrangements. Mind you, it took quite a long time to fix it all, but we did. We've split it into three sections. In the first section are all of the fulfilled prophecies. In the second are all of the prophecies that were supposed to come to pass, but never did. And in the third section are the prophecies that have yet to be fulfilled."_

_"Very interesting indeed. May we go see the third section?"_

_"Certainly." The Minister led the way and spoke about how difficult it was to arrange over a thousand balls onto different shelves and how they only broke one- thankfully, it had a copy. "... absolutely dreadful. Ah, here we are, the prophecies that have yet to come to pass. This section is ordered in chronological order- along with the other ones. The oldest prophecies are over here."_

_"Amazing. May I take a look?"_

_"Of course. It is amazing how someone so many years ago can prophezize something that has yet to come to pass. Why, I believe our oldest prophecy is dated 960 AD."_

_Dumbledore turned around. "960 AD? My, I didn't know they were THAT old! Where is it?"_

_"Over here. Given by Julius the Great to his apprentice, Nero. So many years ago... many say the man was mad! But others believe this may one of the most important prophecies the world has ever seen."_

**XxXxX**

The Minister's words were carved into his mind ever since that day.

And now, years later, looking at this list of half-blood boys, born to a mother of magical blood and a father of Muggle heritage, he felt an emotion between pride, curiosity, and shame. He was proud that he had come this far in searching for the answer. He was curious about what the answer could be. Yet he was ashamed that he had spent so much time on this search.

It would be worth it in the end.

He put the parchment down and stood up. Off to Spinner's End.


	3. UP FOR ADOPTION

This story is up for adoption.

If you'd like it, PM me and I'll send everything you need to you.

Thanks


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